


Ghosts & Echos

by Wet_Lapras



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Negan's evil ghost, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wet_Lapras/pseuds/Wet_Lapras
Summary: This one’s set after the war. It seems even in death, Negan's not finished with Daryl.This is a work in progress, I am still writing for this one and will carry on until it reaches what I consider to be a natural end :)





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One.

(Disclaimer, sadly I do not own The Walking Dead or any of those awesome characters, I just write these for entertainment and fun purposes only)

His footsteps echoed along the empty corridor inside the sanctuary, and even though it was a warm, sunny spring day outside, it felt awfully cold where Daryl stood. He moved slowly, his back to the wall and his crossbow poised to fire at any unseen enemy that may cross his path.

They were looking for supplies, anything that had survived the war was fair game for being put to good use now, everyday items like towels, toothpaste and the odd luxury were in such great demand.

Daryl shuddered from the cold as he made his way down the corridor that had once lead to the cell he was held in, the memories of what happened in there came flooding back into Daryl’s mind, causing a stray tear to fall from his right eye as he remembered being huddled in that tiny dark cell and forcibly shown the Polaroid photos of Glenn and Abraham’s smashed skulls.

He had only just really recovered physically from what happened, the brutal murders, being held against his will and tortured by Negan. The scars left on his body, the dull ache that still radiated from the bullet wound in his shoulder inflicted by Dwight, all stark reminders.

Emotionally he had a long way to go, nightmares still plagued him, he often had awful flashbacks too, sometimes it got too much and he’d be forced to take sleeping tablets just to get some much needed rest.

It was Carol that had helped him the most. Carol had come straight to the Hilltop when she heard about Jesus’ mission to rescue Daryl from the Sanctuary after Negan held him captive. She’d helped Jesus and Rick get him to Harlan, who’d tended his injuries and sedated him so he could get some much needed, undisturbed rest in order to shake of the fever from his infected gunshot wound. He was delirious, confused and disoriented when he was found. Carol had held onto him all the way back, reassuring him he was safe and that he would be ok.

She was there next to his bed when he woke up from his drugged sleep, stroking her fingers through his messy long hair.

In the several days it had taken Daryl to begin to recover from his ordeal, Carol was by his side every step of the way. She helped him up every morning, helped him shower and get dressed, fed him well, helped him get his strength back.

After the war was over they’d both moved into the Hilltop, and shared a large bedroom there that Maggie had allocated specially for them both. Daryl thought it was Maggie’s and the other’s way of repaying them for their service during the war, the least they could do.

Daryl and Carol’s mission to scavenge from the remains of the Sanctuary was spurred on by the fact winter was well on the way and supplies, such as blankets and tough shoes were desperately needed.

Daryl approached the door to the small cell he had been held in, his hands began to visibly shake as they gripped the crossbow that had saved and taken so many lives.

Carol had gone upstairs to take the upper floors while Daryl took the lower ones, they figured they could sweep the place quicker if they split up. They stayed in contact via two way radios, both checking they were in working order before embarking on their scavenging mission. Daryl usually loved spending time away from Hilltop scavenging, it gave him time to process his thoughts, take out his frustration on walkers and if she came along, spend time alone with Carol.

Daryl felt very exposed and vulnerable as he approached the cell door, a feeling he loathed so much. He wanted Carol by his side, hell, he needed her there, but they had a job to do, there was no time for emotions right now. Tears stung behind his eyes like salt in a fresh wound but Daryl pushed his feelings away and focussed on the mission.

As the memories of the time he was held by Negan came flooding back to him, he knew he’d probably have a good cry later on, when he could lay in their big bed, Carol’s arms around him, her soft voice telling him he was allowed to feel things, he was human.

Daryl could shelve his emotions and deal with them at a later time, a skill he had acquired during the many beatings his father gave him when he was a child and one single tear could mean a beating lasting that extra minute or more.

For a second, Daryl thought he heard footsteps echo along the long corridor, coming towards him. He trained his ears toward the sound, a low, steady thud, thud, thud. It must be Carol he thought, but he dare not call out for risk of alerting walkers to their presence and location. The air began to feel cooler, and even though it was a cool-ish October day outside, it felt quite unnatural.

Daryl managed to shift his transfixed gaze from the cell door, brushed off the sound he had just heard as either the wind, or a feral animal prowling the place, nothing a crossbow bolt wouldn’t stop. He managed to mentally dodge another flashback bought on by the sight of the dark, dank cell.

He raised his crossbow again and began to walk further into the dull, barely lit corridor ahead of him. This was the way to Negan’s bedroom, a place that would surely contain a lot of the items they needed.

He radioed Carol to ask her how she was doing. ‘I’m ok sweetie, just found a job lot of tampons!’ she giggled. ‘That’s not much use to ME you silly woman’ Daryl teased back. ‘Going into the next room, I think it’s the med room, god, let it be the med room’ Carol whined playfully. ‘So long as you’re ok hon’ Daryl said, if Carol was ok, then so was he.

They’d agreed to pile all the items they gathered by the door that they’d come in through, then use a trolley they’d found outside to ferry all of it to their truck.

He heard it again, this time it sounded a lot closer, thud, thud, thud, it was coming towards him. Daryl felt cold again, that same sense that something wasn’t right came over him. His body was picking up on something his mind wasn’t, he visibly trembled again.

Then another sound joined in, a sort of ‘scree, screeee’ sound, like something being dragged along the wall. Daryl had heard this sound before, but he could not put a finger on where. He raised his crossbow and pointed it into the shadows that loomed ahead of him, aware that it could well be Carol, so he continued carefully.

He whispered into his radio ‘Carol? Is that you, are you making that noise?’ ‘No babes, I heard something, I thought that was you’. ‘Naw, be careful darling, please’ Daryl insisted over the radio. ‘Sure thing’ Carol quipped back.

Suddenly, the air temperature dropped, it was so cold, Daryl began to shiver and was able to see the steam of his breath drifting out of his mouth and nose.

‘What the fuck’ he mumbled to himself, unable to fathom this unnatural feeling that now enveloped him.

Then, in what is now probably the most terrifying moment in the redneck’s life, he heard another sound.

It was that unmistakable whistle, the one Negan would use when he was approaching someone or some other people, his trademark whistle if you like.

Daryl froze to the spot, in full fight or flight mode. This had to be one of two things, a really immature person playing a really stupid, dangerous prank, or someone left over from the war, a shambling Saviour on their last legs maybe?.

His mind began to piece it all together, the ‘scree’ sound he had heard just a few minutes before, that was Lucille! Lucille being dragged along the wall.

‘What the fuck is going on’ Daryl mumbled to himself, it was so cold too, so cold in fact that ice began to form on one of the windows he was in front of .

He was unable to move, he wanted to run, he wanted to radio Carol, but fear stopped him doing any of those things.

His only thought at this point was for Carol, she had to be ok. She was his world now.

The sounds grew even louder, the air colder still.

Daryl could hear the thumping of his heart in his head. Fear flooded his body. Deep down, something told Daryl that he was not dealing with a human, a walker or even a Chupacabra right now, his belief in the supernatural told him he was very likely dealing with the vengeful ghost of Negan.

Daryl had never been so afraid in his entire life, this was outside of what he was able to contend with, even Daryl Dixon has a breaking point.

The thuds stopped, Daryl felt what felt to him like a slight breeze moving past him, slowly. Did he just see a shadow in his peripheral vision?, a flicker of something not of this world?.

Suddenly the silence was broken by a booming, unmistakable voice, ‘little pig! LITTLE PIG!!’ echoed around him.

Long gone was the moment that Daryl blamed the wind. He was a very outdoors person and knew what the wind was capable of, and this was far beyond it’s remit.

There was no question, this was the voice of NEGAN, but Negan was dead! He was dead, Daryl shook violently, unable to hold himself together anymore, he froze dead to the spot where he was stood.

This had to be a sick joke, it couldn’t be anything else, could it? His skeptic side trying it’s best to rationalize this.

Just as Daryl managed to get his shaking hand to move towards his radio so he could check on Carol, an unseen force hit him like a freight train, knocking him to the floor and knocking his crossbow from his grip, causing it to clatter to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two is here, enjoy!

The next thing he knew, two icy cold hands grabbed his ankles. He tried to scream, but no sound left his mouth. It was as if he’d been gagged. Then with an awful, sudden jolt, Daryl was violently dragged along the corridor. He was unable to see who or what was dragging him, he was overcome with fear now.

He tried to struggle free as his fight instinct filled the gap where flight was no longer possible, but it was no use, whatever was dragging him was so much stronger than he was. It had super human strength. Daryl recalled similar scenes from his favorite horror films, where people were dragged into the darkness by evil entities, but that was only possible with Hollywood special effects. Right?.

It was dragging him towards the cell Negan had held him in.

Daryl’s life began to flicker before his eyes as his mind became convinced that death was imminent.

One figure stood out from the rest of the faces flashing through his mind, Carol. Was Carol safe?. She had to be. He had to get back to her, if anyone could help him understand this, it would be Carol.

Daryl felt sick, and for a minute thought he would be, but he managed not to throw up.

Suddenly his body came to an abrupt holt, the grip around his ankles turned into a violent jolt and he was thrown into the cell. His body hit the wall and all the wind was knocked from his body. Daryl was frozen to the spot, not sure if he was about to vomit, pass out or both. Fear of this intensity was an unusual concept to Daryl.

The door suddenly slammed shut, leaving the small, claustrophobic cell in total darkness. Surely Carol must have heard that, she must be on her way towards this awful din, but what if she too was attacked by this force?

Daryl tried to reach for his radio, and just as he was about to press the button to speak to Carol, the unseen force tore the radio from his hand and smashed it against the wall, causing it to break into several pieces.

The voice spoke up again ‘LITTLE PIG, LITTLE PIG!!!!!’

It was Negan’s voice, unmistakably Negan’s voice.

How could this be? Negan was dead, Rick killed him right in front of Daryl, Carol and many of the others.

Daryl’s whole body hurt as he tried to cower into the corner of the cell. ‘Wha..what do you want from me?!? He managed to say into the darkness of the cell, his voice fractured by terror.

Then he saw it, him, or it or whatever this awful entity was, flashed in front of Daryl’s eyes, it was Negan but he looked almost like a skeleton as his transparent full frame flashed briefly into Daryl’s view.

If walkers came back as ghosts, they may look a bit like Negan’s evil spirit did.

Bony fingers clutched Lucille, two rows of bare teeth shone back at Daryl, who by this point really did not know if he had lost his mind completely or if he really was being attacked by the vengeful ghost of Negan, the man who had harbored so much hatred for Daryl and his new family in life was now trying to continue his violent vendetta in death.

Daryl began to go into shock, his limbs growing heavy, his breaths ragged, pain flooding through his body.

Suddenly he was being jerked upright as Negan’s ghost pinned him up against the wall, his arms and legs held fast against he cold brick wall.

The eerie thing about this is Negan didn’t really say much, it was as if speaking used up too much of his precious ethereal energy, energy he needed to hurt Daryl, the man part responsible for his death.

Daryl felt a sharp blow to his ribs, then another and another, it felt like he was being beaten by his father again, and for a minute, terrified Daryl hoped his father’s spirit would not come and join Negan’s.

Another blow struck Daryl’s chest as his fear frozen body refused to put up any more of a struggle, he just didn’t have the strength left in him. His fight was gone.

Negan’s ghost was beating Daryl with Lucille, but thankfully the bat’s strength had been diminished by the fact it was now part of Negan’s spirit. The blows were still agonizing,

Carol was blissfully unaware of what was happening to Daryl downstairs as she placed her radio onto a dressing table and began to try on a lovely new dress she’d found in a room that must have belonged to a woman, and a woman in a high ranking position among Negan’s cronies too. The dress was a grey maxi dress, it suited her she thought, but mores to the point, would Daryl like it?. She smiled at herself in the mirror on the wall, and for a moment she almost forgot what the world was like now. Carol was doing what she always did, thinking about Daryl before herself.

Suddenly, Daryl was dropped to the floor, he felt a rush of cold air and then more blows, this time as if he was being kicked all over his body.

Pain, pain and more pain flooded through him, dark spots were beginning to fill his vision. The one thing keeping him going was Carol, the hope that he would soon be reunited with her, the pain over.

Negan let out an evil laugh, and the words ‘you’re mine!’ billowed around the cell.

Daryl managed to let out a single sob of pain, which caused Negan’s evil spirit to land another kick to Daryl’s ribs.

He then stuck what felt like the ghostly Lucille straight into the still painful gunshot wound in Daryl’s right shoulder, the pain was something even Daryl had not felt before.

‘Nobody will believe me when I have to explain how I got these injuries’ he thought to himself. ‘They didn’t believe me when I told them about that Chupacabra I saw that time’.

‘L..l..leave me a..alone’ Daryl croaked, begging the hopefully less evil spirit of his brother, Merle, to help him. ‘M..Merle, brother, help me’.

Then, almost as if nothing had ever happened, Negan’s spirit vanished, the death grip it had held Daryl in suddenly released, the air temperature began to return to normal.

Daryl lay on the cold stone floor, he had no radio and no weapons.

Pain tore into the core of his body, he tried to sit up, but it was no use. Darkness enveloped him and he fell unconscious.

Disclaimer - I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters sadly, this is just for fun and entertainment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I misplaced this chapter, sorry! Sorted now, I think...

‘Daryl?, Daryl are you ok?’ Carol spoke softly into her radio, but all she got in reply was static. 

‘Daryl, come in!’ she spoke louder, but still no reply.

Carol began to worry, it was not like Daryl to turn off or abandon his radio. It was not like him at all. 

She bundled the dress into her rucksack and made her way down the flight of metal stairs that lead down to the main shop floor of the Sanctuary. 

She had only a vague idea of where Daryl may be, she began her search in the canteen area. Tins of food still lined the kitchen shelves, two hams hung in a now abandoned pantry just off to the right of the cooking area. 

There’s absolutely no way Daryl would have come through here and not started to load this food into boxes, like we planned. He hasn’t been through here yet.

Carol continued on through the eating area of the canteen, half eaten plates of rotting food still adorned the tables.

A scuttling sound startled Carol and she immediately pointed her rifle towards it, whatever it was was clattering around inside one of the kitchen cupboards. 

Carol flung the cupboard door open to reveal a large possum, and her heart slowed a little. 

She left the animal to get on with it’s business, far more concerned about the whereabouts of Daryl, the very pivot of her world. 

Carol scanned around the large open area, ‘Daryl?...Daryl!?’ she whispered sharply, ‘are you here?’.

No reply, so she moved on through two double doors and headed down the corridor beyond, rifle poised to shoot should the need arise. 

The silence unnerved her, she needed to know Daryl was safe.

She took careful, steady steps along the corridor, alert to the possibility of any threats, ones which may well have harmed Daryl. 

She shuddered when she thought he may have found the cell he was held in, and just broken down like he did the first time he began talking to Carol about what had happened during the time Negan held him prisoner. 

She’d just helped him shower, get his pyjamas on, and helped him into bed. She got in next to him and his fingers soon found hers, and both sets laced together in a firm but gentle grip. 

‘He hurt me, beat me, kept me awake, let my gunshot wound get badly infected, the pain… but that’s not the worst thing he did Carol… that was those photos…’ he trailed off, beginning to cry, a lot. 

‘What photos sweetie?’ Carol calmly asked as she lay next to him, slowly shifting around so she could wrap him up in her arms. ‘Of Glenn and Abraham’…Daryl’s sobs began to increase to the point each one shook the bed a little. 

‘Their heads smashed on the ground’…  
That was all Daryl could say before he completely fell apart as if the entire world was ending, again.

Carol said ‘I am so sorry, I should not have asked’, she said, blaming herself for Daryl’s distress.

‘No sweetheart, it’s not your fault, it’s not, I promise’ Daryl managed to say between his sobs. 

His tears were now starting to soak Carol’s shirt as she held him in the protective cocoon of her arms until he began to relax, a mixture of feeling safe because she was there with him, and the heavy duty pain meds he had taken before he got into bed. 

It broke Carol’s heart into pieces to see the man who had become her best friend and dearest love, hurting so much. She had warned Rick only the other day that if she got to Negan before he did, he was hers. 

She had to hurry up and find him, in case he was hurt, or needed her like he had on that occasion, he was still feeling very raw and vulnerable from his ordeal, she knew it, she could see straight through his tough shell.

Daryl probably wasn’t ready for this, but Carol didn’t try to stop him, he had to work things through himself, with himself. He knew she was always there if he needed her. 

Carol made her way along the corridor, murky light poured in through the frosted glass windows. 

Daryl lay on the cold stone floor, slowly consciousness began to return to him, he slowly came around, his vision still blurry and pain had become the only thing he could feel. 

It really hurt to breathe, he guessed the evil spirit of Negan had probably broken a couple of his ribs.

He felt blood running down his chin from where one of Negan’s blows had split his bottom lip open.

The door to the cell began to drift open, no longer held shut by the evil force that had just brutally attacked Daryl, and a chink of light from the corridor outside began to creep in. 

‘Carol..’ Daryl croaked as he tried to roll over a bit to try and ease the pain, ‘my love, where are you?’ 

Carol continued to walk slowly down the corridor towards the cell where Daryl had been attacked by Negan’s spirit, she figured if he was having another flashback or had gotten upset again, he’d be around there somewhere. 

‘Daryl?’ she called out carefully, loud enough for him to hear her if he was close by, but not loud enough to alert any walkers that may still be lingering around to her presence. 

She got no reply, but carried on in the direction of the cell.  
Daryl was suddenly startled by a shuffling sound, followed by all to familiar moans. 

WALKER, the word shot into Daryl’s mind like one of the many crossbow bolts he’d used to exterminate so many of the vile things. 

Daryl frantically tried to sit up, but it was no use, his body was too weak and in far too much pain to even begin to sit up, let alone stand and fight a walker. 

The shuffling and moaning was getting closer, Daryl was almost resigned to the fact he was going to die here, he was going to die in this cell after all. He began to feel as he had felt the time Negan himself had come to see him when he was being held prisoner, and bought Lucille down onto his head, only to stop half an inch before the bat crashed into his skull. 

Daryl began to feel sick again, physically sick. His new injuries collaborating with his old ones, creating a symphony of pain inside his body. 

He licked his lips a little just before everything in his stomach landed up on the floor in front of him in a big splash of vomit.

He spluttered and gagged on the few chunks that remained stuck in the back of his throat. ‘Oh fuck’ he thought, the sound of him being sick must have alerted the approaching walker to his location. 

Daryl felt awful, shock, pain and exhaustion were literally going to kill him now because he was powerless to stop the approaching walker. 

His thoughts turned to Carol as the shuffling and moaning drew even closer. What would he give to hold her one last time before he was snatched from the world forever.

He could almost smell her, images of many happy moments they’d shared played in his mind like a slideshow.

A lonely tear streaked a path down his left cheek, ‘Carol, I love you’ he muttered into the low light as the sounds of the walker shambling towards him grew even closer, it must only be a few feet away now. 

The grunting sound stopped by the door, bony fingers curled around the door and began to push it open. 

It was almost as if Negan’s spirit had lead the walker towards the cell and opened the door on purpose before finally leaving. 

He saw it, it was indeed a rotting, foul walker, and to add to how terrible this was going to be, it was a little girl walker, not much older than Sophia had been when she was killed.

Daryl put up what he thought would be one last struggle, he called on every last drop of strength he could find and placed both his hands onto the floor and tried to push himself up. 

He was damned if a walker was going to finish him off, let alone a small child one. 

Pain tore through him, the pain of his broken ribs cutting deep into his body. The areas on his abdomen where Negan’s ghost had kicked him and hit him with the ghostly version of Lucille put out so much pain his body could no longer function.

Daryl’s vision dimmed, and seconds later that void of darkness claimed him again. 

His body slumped back to the floor, the little girl walker pushed the door open and began to stumble into the tiny room towards Daryl’s unconscious body, snarling and growling, flesh hanging from her rotting face, exposing rows of rotten yellow teeth.


	4. Chapter 4

Carol continued on towards the cell, quietly calling out Daryl’s name into the empty, grotty corridor. No reply, where the hell was he she thought, now pretty worried about his safety. 

As she turned the corner and approached the cell, keeping her back carefully to the wall and her rifle poised for action, she saw it, her heart fell from her chest, her world shattered into a million different pieces. 

In the dim light, she could just make out Daryl’s crossbow on the stone floor, the quiver still full of bolts. 

‘Daryl!’ She frantically called out now, unconcerned about what her voice may attract, she didn’t care, she had to find Daryl. 

She picked up his crossbow and slung it over her shoulder. Wherever he was, he’d be needing this back she thought to herself, trying to stay positive in her search for Daryl.

She ran towards the cell, tears pooling up in her eyes, ‘Daryl!’ she called out, her voice breaking with emotion, ‘were are you, where are you!’.

She arrived at the cell door seconds before the walker delivered it’s first fatal bite to Daryl, ‘OH MY GOD! NOOOO’ She cried out as she heard the walker’s moans from inside the room. 

Without hesitation Carol dispatched the foul creature with her knife, sending specks of blood in all directions. 

She’d got there with not even a second to spare, had she been a fraction of a second later, Daryl would have been bit. 

As soon as the walker was down, she frantically began trying to wake Daryl as she feared the worst.

Her eyes blinked and the tears collected in them fell down her cheeks as she felt for Daryl’s pulse in his neck. His pulse was still going strong, he was alive. She scoured his battered body for bites but could not see any.

‘Daryl, Daryl sweetie wake up! Wake up!’ She cried. 

A low groan came from Daryl’s bloodied lips, ‘Carol?’ he managed to croak out.

Yes! Yes Daryl sweetheart, it’s me, Carol, you’re going to be okay, I’ll get us out of here’. 

‘He did this, he hurt me’ Daryl whispered, his voice breaking up from the pain.

‘Who did this?’ Carol asked, Daryl replied ‘Negan, Negan did this to me’.

‘Negan’s dead darling, Rick killed him remember?’ 

‘No Carol, he did this, he did this…’ Daryl’s voice trailed off as that darkness threatened him again.

‘Daryl I think you’re a bit confused, let’s get you the hell out of here, do you think you can stand?’

Daryl decide that rather than try to explain what had just happened, he was rather fond of the whole getting the hell out of this place thing. 

‘I dunno, let’s try’ he groaned.

Daryl fought the pain as best he could and managed to sit up so Carol could slip her arm around his middle.

Using the wall to steady himself and Carol to lean on the other side, he managed to get to his feet.

His head spun and he swayed as he stood up, but he did it. Pain tore into the very core of his body, blood was beginning to dry on his face and arms.

‘He really did this, it was him’ a weak, disoriented Daryl tried to explain to Carol.

‘Shh, no need to talk, lets get you to the truck and back home’ Carol insisted. 

They made their way through the deserted sanctuary to the door they’d come in through. Carol kept her eyes fixed ahead, expecting the threat that had attacked Daryl to appear at any moment to finish what it started. 

She continued to carry Daryl’s crossbow on her back, and her rifle in her free hand should it be needed. 

Carol also decided to completely forget the supplies, she could send someone else back for them, all that mattered now was Daryl. 

Carol’s arm was stuck fast around Daryl as he tried to walk, his body threatening to betray him to the darkness again.

‘Feel like I’m gonna pass out again’ he told Carol, his voice scratchy and weak.

‘Not far now, stay with me sweetheart’ Carol told him, doing her best not to let her tears fall.

As they got closer to the truck, she spotted another walker. 

Carol sighed, ‘Daryl, sweetie, you’ve gotta hold tight here while I deal with this’ she told him, as the walker was between them and the truck and she didn’t think she could make it to the truck with Daryl before the walker attacked. 

Carol gently slid her arm from around Daryl’s waist and helped him sit down on some wooden boxes while she dispatched the walker with a quick blow from her knife.

Once the walker was dealt with, she helped Daryl up off the boxes and they walked to the truck, once there Carol helped Daryl get in. As he got into the truck, pain from his most likely broken ribs overtook him, 

He whimpered, clutching his side. ‘Oh sweetie, it’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay’, she told him as she took hold of his trembling hand. 

Daryl lay his head back against the head rest of the truck seat, he was hurting and exhausted, like anyone who had just taken the beating he had, but he was also confused and pretty terrified about what had just happened. 

He was trying to work it out in his head, he’d always believed in some kind of spirit world, and figured that as there were good and bad people alive in our world, there must be good and bad in the afterlife too.  
As she put the key into the ignition, Carol noticed the fear still in Daryl’s eyes.

‘It’s okay Daryl, you’re with me now, you’re safe’.

‘I’ll never be safe from him Carol, never’.

‘He’s dead Daryl, he can’t hurt you now’

Daryl began to cry, unable to control his fraught emotions.

‘Negan did this, it was HIM Carol, and somehow he came back’ Daryl said as more tears fell. 

‘What do you mean Daryl? What do you mean he came back?, she questioned him. 

‘I dunno, a spirit, a ghost, a demon, I saw him, I saw something in there, whatever it was did this to me’.

Carol pulled the truck over to the roadside as she tried to comprehend what Daryl was trying to tell her.

‘It went really cold, like winter cold, I could see my breath in front of me, it wasn’t natural’. 

 

‘He whistled like he did, you know, that whistle of his, and he called out LITTLE PIG, LITTLE PIG before he attacked me’.

 

Daryl began frantically trying to explain everything, from the moment the temperature dropped and the entity made itself known to the moment Carol found him.

He was injured and in so much pain he wasn’t really making a good job of it though. Words simply would not suffice when it came to trying to explain what had just happened to him in there. 

‘He threw me against the wall, pinned me there, started beating me’….

Daryl trailed off, his voice broken by pain and fear.

‘Calm down sweetheart’ Carol tried to reassure him as she began to drive out of the Sanctuary grounds. 

Daryl lay his head back against the seat headrest, his hands were shaking, bruises beginning to form all over his body. 

‘Here, wipe that blood off your lip’ Carol said, handing him a tissue, trying to do what little she could for him until they got back to Hilltop. 

‘Once I’ve got you home and got you to Dr Harlan, I’m going back to the Sanctuary to find the son of a bitch who did this to you’.

‘NO, Carol, NO, you don’t understand’ Daryl whimpered in a frustrated tone. 

‘Negan did this to me, it was Negan, somehow he came back, he got back here and did this to me’.

‘Daryl, sweetie, Negan’s dead, you know that’ she said as she slowed down before placing the back of her hand to his forehead to check for a fever, thinking Daryl may be sick and starting to get delirious. 

‘It was probably someone who used to live there, a straggler trying their luck’ Carol calmly explained to Daryl. 

Carol felt something wasn’t ‘right’, Daryl NEVER lied, period, he was the most honest man she knew, and she’d not known many honest men in her life. 

The fear and terror all over Daryl’s face were real, and very out of character for him, his injuries were real, something had happened in there, and she did notice the absence of any person running from the scene. It couldn’t have been a walker, a walker would just have bitten him, not thrown him against the wall beaten him repeatedly.

She would have heard them running off, the place was full of echoes, even an ant’s footsteps would have been heard in that empty place. 

Carol drove on towards the Hilltop, once there she’d take Daryl to Dr Harlan who could clean him up and sort his injuries better than she could.

‘I am not lying Carol, on my life, I am not lying’

Carol didn’t know what to believe, she knew the others would have a hard time understanding any of this, just like she was, she really was, for the first time in a long time, at a loss as to what to do. 

She wished Father Gabriel was still alive, he may have some ideas, but she felt at a loss, and angry with herself for not being able to help the man she loved. 

As she drove along, she noticed Daryl had fallen silent, he was just gazing out of the window, his expression was blank and vacant, tears still lingered in the corners of his eyes. 

With her left hand on the truck’s wheel, she placed her free left hand onto Daryl’s knee. Eventually his hand slowly made his way to hers and he laced his rough fingers with hers. 

Still silent, he sighed a deep, pain filled sigh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything should be in it's right place now, please correct me if it's not. Sorry for any confusion. I'm not sure myself how I managed to mix it up like that x

As she turned onto the lane that lead up to the Hilltop, she promised Daryl he would be ok. He was strong, he survived Negan’s first attempt to torture and break him, he’d certainly survive this. 

Daryl’s mind was racing with all the possibilities, he had to rationalize this somehow, what had just happened didn’t make much sense to him, but then again who would have expected the dead to rise up and eat the living?. Anything was possible now, and he knew it more than most. His keen hunter’s eye forced him to evaluate everything, to make sense of it. 

As they drove up to the gates, Carol could see Dwight and Edith sat on the watch platform. Dwight had joined them once he turned his back on Negan, and had managed to form a truce with many members of the group, all apart from Daryl, who refused to be in the same room as him and could hardly bear to look at him without wanting to tear him to pieces. 

Daryl spoke, ‘oh fuck it’s that dickhead’ he said to Carol. 

‘Daryl sweetie, shh, Dwight is not so bad, he only hurt you like he did because he had someone to protect, his wife Sherry, Negan forced him and broke him. Edith has forgiven him and look what the Saviours put her through’.

Daryl sighed, knowing Dwight was the least of his worries now. 

Dwight and Edith opened the gates to let the truck in.

Rick was out on the yard watching Morgan break a horse they’d just caught. The horse was whinnying wildly, rearing up and flaying it’s legs in the air as Morgan calmly handled the long rein and calmed the frightened animal.

Carol brought the truck to a slow stop, got out and called Rick over to them, not wanting to alarm everyone, she asked Rick to go and get Harlan.  
‘It’s Daryl, he’s hurt, he got attacked while we were going through the sanctuary’. Carol managed to tell Rick in as calm a tone as she could. She had to stay calm, Daryl needed her right now.

‘Oh god, how bad is it? Is he bit?!’ Rick frantically asked, trying to gain as much information as he could from Carol.

‘He’s got a good few cuts and bruises, says he thinks one or two of his ribs are broken’

‘Who did this?’ Rick asked.

Carol really didn’t know how to answer that, so she just replied ‘we don’t know, I found him like this with a walker about to bite into him’ she told Rick as Rick began to walk towards the medical trailer to get Dr Harlan.

A few seconds later, Harlan and Rick emerged from the trailer, jogging over towards the truck. 

Harlan opened the door and held out his hand to Daryl who grabbed it and Harlan helped him stand. Rick and Harlan both got either side of his weak, hurting body and helped him walk towards the medical trailer with Carol just behind them. 

Once there, Harlan instructed Daryl to lay on the gurney, and he helped him get onto it. A very worried looking Rick and Carol stood back in the corner while Harlan began to examine Daryl.  
‘Ugh, no, please…don’t…’ Daryl protested as Harlan began to lift his shirt. 

‘Daryl, you’re hurt, I need to find out how badly so I can help you’.

‘So much pain….pain all over…’ Daryl mumbled.

Does this hurt? Harlan asked before he gently but firmly placed his hand onto the left side of Daryl’s visibly bruised ribcage.

‘FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK, STOP, STOP!’ Daryl cried out, panting with pain and almost hitting Harlan as he thrashed around.

Harlan paused and walked over to a tray of items. He picked up a syringe and walked towards the medication cabinet which was full of vials and boxes. He picked up a glass vial full of a clear looking liquid, and proceeded to draw this liquid into the syringe. 

‘What the fuck is that?!’ Daryl asked frantically, ‘don’t you dare be giving me anything that will put me out’, he began to try and get up off the gurney.

Harlan gently placed his hand on Daryl’s shoulder and pushed him back down. 

‘It’s morphine, for the pain, it’ll probably make you feel a bit groggy, but Daryl, you need to rest and I need to treat these injuries’ Harlan told him calmly. 

Harlan had a great manner, he had helped and saved so many people over the past year. 

He slowly helped Daryl take his shirt sleeve off, wiped a patch of skin on his shoulder with an alcohol swab and injected him with the morphine. 

No more than five minutes later, the morphine was working and Daryl seemed a little calmer. 

His eyelids felt heavy, his body felt strangely warm inside, and the pain was receding fast. 

‘Is that better?’ Harlan asked Daryl.

‘Yeah, I spose’ Daryl replied. 

‘Any idea who did this to you Daryl?’ Harlan asked him.

‘Yeah, but you wouldn’t believe me, not in a million years’.

Rick looked at Carol with a very puzzled look on his face. ‘What’s he talking about you won’t believe me?’

Carol decided to come straight out with it.

‘All the way back here he kept telling me Negan, or Negan’s evil spirit did this to him, threw him against the wall and beat him’.

‘What the…’ Rick and Harlan’s mouth’s fell open almost simultaneously.  
Come on Carol, really? Negan’s ghost beat Daryl up?’

‘I don’t know what to think, I really don’t’ Carol replied.

‘Daryl is the most honest man we know, why would he make something like this up? Someone or something really went at him in there, we can’t deny that, and when I found him, there was a walker about to attack him but nobody was around, it was as still as a millpond’.

‘I’m a man of science’ Harlan replied, ‘I’m not too sure I want to go along with this theory, perhaps Daryl’s sick, maybe getting a fever, I’ll check him over well’ he said as he continued to gently wipe dried blood from Daryl’s body. 

Rick chipped in and said ‘well, before the world went to shit, nobody would have believed anyone who said they’d been bitten by a walking dead man, look at us now, not a day goes by when we’re not having to re-kill the dead. 

‘Carol? Carol, you here?’ Daryl asked, his voice low and gruff, the exhaustion of the day’s events and the morphine both pulling Daryl towards sleep. 

‘Yes sweetheart, I’m here’ she responded as she took his hand into hers. 

‘I don’t care what anyone thinks, I know what happened, I know…’ he began to trail off, his words now more of a quiet whisper. 

‘It’s okay sweetie, we can talk about this later, you should sleep now’ Carol said to him, her fingers gently stroking his forehead.

Within 20 seconds Daryl was sound asleep, Carol was sat in the chair next to the gurney, Daryl’s hand still firmly in hers. 

Carol began to think what they should tell the others. There would be a lot of questions in the morning when people saw Daryl and his injuries. 

She’d think of something, she always did. She would respect Daryl’s wishes when it came to what to say. 

It was getting late, the light of the day was beginning to fade and Carol was getting tired, they’d both been up since 3am, neither could sleep, which was the case for many nights. 

They just lay awake and talked if they weren’t in the mood for anything else other than sleeping. 

Daryl would tell Carol stories about his life growing up on a trailer park, the adventures he had with his brother during the time Merle managed to stay out of jail. They’d go off deep into the wooded Georgia wilderness, sometimes for a few days at a time, honing the survival skills that kept them alive through the outbreak and the dangers of the post apocalyptic landscape that faced them afterwards.

Carol knew very well that Daryl’s childhood was far from rosy though, his father was a wicked, cruel man who cared far more about his next beer than he ever did his sons. He had a real vendetta against Daryl, who faced the majority of his beatings. The scars that littered Daryl’s back all had their own stories to tell, stories that Daryl could not tell without breaking down in tears most days. 

Whatever had happened back at the sanctuary today, Daryl did not deserve it. Daryl may be stoic and quiet, but he’s a good, kind person who would put anyone he cared about before anything else. 

Carol adjusted herself in the chair, taking a peek up at Daryl’s sleeping form laying on the gurney, his hand still in hers, their fingers loosely laced together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recent events follow Daryl into the abyss of sleep, instead of some quiet rest he finds more turmoil and torment. 
> 
> Catagory - Supernatural/suspense/hurt/comfort/romance etc
> 
> Parings - Carol/Daryl
> 
> (Disclaimer - I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters sadly, this is just for fun and entertainment.)

Daryl found himself in a hallway, it looked somewhat familiar and he instantly felt a sinister presence there with him. It was cold and he began to shiver, the shadows seemed to move and change.

 

He could hear dripping, like the slow but constant drip of a tap. Then he heard the snarls of walkers and reached for his crossbow, which was usually slung over his back, but there was no crossbow, he didn’t have it, he never left home without it, this was not right.

 

He reached down to his belt for his knife, only to find the empty sheath, his hunting knife never left his side, but he was without it now .

 

Daryl turned a corner and was faced with a long, dark corridor, he knew this place, but his mind could not place it, not yet, it was different, it was wrong.

 

How could he land up in such a place with no weapons? He was Daryl Dixon, he did not even cross the yard unarmed.

 

He turned to look through a window, disoriented and trying to get his bearings, but as he looked through the window, he saw it was bricked up, the glass was in tact but he could only see brick, no outside. He took a couple more steps to the next window, the same thing, bricked up. The next and the next, there was just brick where there was once outside.

 

It was getting colder, Daryl wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm.

 

Where the hell am I? He kept asking himself.

 

Then he saw it, a distinct trail of blood leading into the darkness.

 

Drip drip drip, the sound of something dripping was getting louder with every step he took.

 

He positioned himself with his back against the wall, trying to conceal as much of himself as he could, relying on all his wits to survive.

 

All of a sudden he heard the moans of a walker, getting louder and louder. He couldn’t see any walkers though, no matter how hard he looked.

 

The sound did not move, Daryl’s keen hunters ear would have picked up the change of direction if the sound moved.

 

He felt so cold, he shivered and so longed for the warmth of his poncho. He was wearing his sleeveless shirt and black jeans, but that was all he had on him, he was lost in this awful, strange and foreboding place with nothing, no weapons, and he knew how dangerous even stepping out of the door was without a weapon in his world now.

Suddenly he heard something behind him, but it was too late, that all too familiar feeling of icy cold bony hands grasping his skin, but this time there was more than one pair.

 

He froze in terror as he saw who the hands belonged to, to the right was the horribly disfigured ghost of Negan, who’d attacked him only yesterday, only there were two other ghouls stood next to Negan this time, Simon and Jared. Jared was covered in walker bites, half of his neck was missing. Simon was decaying, flesh falling off every part of his body.

 

He felt the tips of bony fingers digging into his flesh, hed never felt so helpless in all his life.

 

Daryl suddenly felt his entire world ending once again as terror flooded through his veins, freezing his body in it’s icy grip until Daryl could not move at all.

 

Daryl felt himself falling as he was hit by a giant wave of the sticky red liquid, and found himself adrift in an evil sea of blood, bones and body parts, dismembered arms, legs, hands and feet swirled around his helpless body, then the heads of his friends appeared and bobbed up and down in the gore, everyone he knew and loved.

 

He felt the blood begin to enter his nose and mouth, he was powerless to stop it, he gasped and spluttered and the more he struggled, the more the waves of gore pulled him downwards, he was being carried to hell!

 

In the background he saw a shadow, it was of a man bringing a bat down onto someone’s head, blood spraying everywhere.

 

He could hear awful screams, people screaming in agony. One voice stood out, it was Carol’s. ‘DARYL!’ she cried out, ‘DARYL, HELP ME!’.

 

He frantically tried to swim towards her voice, but even his strength was no match for the powerful currents of blood that held him fast, dragging him down, along the dark corridors, downwards to the gates of hell it’s self.

 

Carol’s screams seemed to echo, then a voice, his voice, Negan’s voice, boomed in the darkness, ‘I’ve got her, I’ve got her little pig, and she’s mine, now we can all burn together!’

 

NO, he screamed, ‘CAROL! CAROL! NOOOOO, NOO STOP, STOPPPPPPPPPPPP…….’

 

NOOOOO, NO NO NO NOOOOOOO…………………..

 

Then a voice reached him in the darkness, he knew this voice, he followed this voice out of this horrible place.

 

He felt soft hands take hold of his as the voice spoke.

‘Daryl, Daryl sweetie, it’s me, Carol, it’s only a dream, you’re okay, it’s okay, it’s me, Carol, you’re safe’.

Things began to get more and more familiar and less foreboding as Carol slowly pulled him out of his nightmare.

As he began to wake up, he felt Carol’s hand on his forehead, her fingers slowly stroking his messy long hair.

He was panting and shaking when he woke up, he could not clear his mind of the things he had seen in this dream. Tears filled his eyes, and as hard as he tried to stop them falling, the usually tough skinned stoic just could not hold them back any longer.

‘It’s okay Daryl, it’s okay to cry sometimes’, Carol’s heart ached for him, she felt helpless.

‘That was horrible!’, he said, trying to get his heart rate to return to normal.

‘That dream was no dream, he did that, he did that to me again, he found another way to get me!’

‘Daryl, sweetie, it was just a dream, dreams can’t hurt us’ Carol desperately tried to calm Daryl down.

Daryl lay there in her arms for a few minutes, his broken ribs reminding him that they were still there, his eyelids still heavy from the painkillers.

He rested his head on her chest and she held him there, slowly running her hand through his hair, a thing she knew he loved but would never admit it.

‘Why do you believe me Carol?’ Daryl asked, his voice sounding groggy but still very upset.

‘Believe you about what sweetie?’ Carol asked him.

‘About Negan’s spirit attacking me’ he replied

‘Well a few years ago, Ed was beating me, he had to stop and throw up because he’d drunk so much, then stormed out and went back to the bar, I didn’t see him again that night’.

I saw something, I saw my mum, who died 7 years before, she was stood right next to my bed. I thought it was just me seeing things, but the next day Sophia came into my bedroom and asked me what grandma was doing standing by her bed’.

A tear began to form in Carol’s eye as she recalled this moment.

‘I believe my mum was watching over me, if Ed hadn’t thrown up, I think this would have been the time he didn’t stop’.

Daryl felt angry, angry that he’d not been there for Carol when these things were happening, he was angry that he could not save Sophia too.

‘She’s with her nanna now’ Carol quietly told Daryl.

‘She’s safe, the monsters she was so afraid of can’t hurt her now’.

Daryl looked up and noticed Carol had tears streaked down her face.

He sat up, his broken ribs protested again but he sat up nevertheless.

He did his best to put his arms around Carol, kissing the top of her head as he did.

‘I love you so much Carol, I will never let anything happen to you, ever’.

‘I love you too Daryl’ Carol said softly.

‘I am so sorry you had to go through what happened in there, I’m so angry that bastard Negan couldn’t just leave you be and die, he had to come back and torment you even more’.

‘It’s okay Carol, I’ll be fine, I have to move on from it like I’ve had to move on from all the hardships in my life’.

‘Yeah but that doesn’t make it better or right does it’.

Daryl sighed a deep, sad sounding sigh and buried his head into Carol’s chest even more.

‘I’m so tired, but if I go back to sleep I’ll have another fucking nightmare’ he said, sounding resigned and despondent.

‘We have to collect those supplies soon’ Daryl told Carol, ‘the group needs them’.

‘You’re not going anywhere Daryl, Rick and Mitchonne were talking about going back there later today to pick up what we collected’.

‘Fuck no, what if he attacks them too!?’ Daryl’s voice filled with concern.

‘They gotta stay together, and weapons won’t protect them against him’.

Carol felt Daryl shudder and tremble as he thought about Negan and how he’d come back as an evil ghost and attacked him.

‘You need to rest, would you like to try and go back to sleep? I’ll stay with you’ Carol said in a low voice, kissing Daryl gently on the lips.

‘I can try, but if I have another dream like that, I am never sleeping again’ Daryl said as he sighed.

Daryl slowly lay back, letting his body sink into the bed.

Carol lay next to him and ran her fingers through his hair again. Daryl mumbled ‘hmmmm’ in a low growl, letting her know he loved this so much.

No sooner had he lay back down and closed his eyes, sleep caught up with him again.

He did dream, but this time he dreamed of his brother Merle.

‘Daryl, brother, look at the size of that buck!’ Daryl ‘s head shot up and he saw it, a huge six point buck stood in the woodland clearing right in front of them, sunlight filtering through the leaves and dancing around the magnificent creature.

 

Daryl slowly reached for his crossbow and loaded a bolt.

 

Merle smiled, ‘take him down brother’ he told Daryl, ‘this one’s yours!’.

 

Daryl raised his crossbow, his hands steady and strong, his aim second to none.

 

Daryl aimed and squeezed the trigger like it was something very delicate.

 

That all too familiar click and whoosh sound filled the air and the buck bolted, he wouldn’t get far though, Daryl had made a clean shot to the animal’s neck.

 

The brothers tracked the buck for what didn’t seem like far at all until the trail ran into some shrubs, ‘there he is brother!’ Merle’s face lit up, ‘nice shot!’.

 

Daryl smiled, the sun lighting up his face.

 

Merle and Daryl dragged the buck out into a clearing, Daryl held up the head by the antlers and grinned.

 

‘Not taken down a buck so handsome in ages, he’s gonna cook up real good tonight brother!’ Daryl said, his voice sounding happy, content even.

 

The sun began to fade as the brothers carried the buck out of the woods and loaded it onto the bed of their pickup truck.

 

‘A good day’s hunting makes for a good evening’s eating’ Daryl smiled again as he and Merle drove away, the sun saying it’s final farewell before it ducked out of sight behind the horizon to make room in the sky for the bright silver moon.

 

‘I miss you brother’ Merle said to Daryl.

 

‘How can you miss me you dumb twat, I’m sat right here next to you’ Daryl snarked, giving Merle a puzzled look.

 

‘I’ve gotta go soon Daryl, you know why, it’s not as it should be but I am in a nice place, it’s peaceful there, no more hurtin’ and fightin’.

 

‘What on Earth do you mean Merle, gotta go where?’

 

‘I gotta go back to the place we go when we leave this world, I am not sure what to call it, but it’s beautiful, our mom’s there, she’s so happy’.

 

‘Mom!’ Daryl gasped, ‘she’s there?!?’

 

‘Yes brother, she’s there, she’s watching over your sorry little ass with me’ Merle giggled.

 

‘They look after us, we call them angels but I’m really not sure what they are, they’re just forces of pure goodness’

 

Daryl looked very confused by this, but he slowly began to realize what Merle was talking about.

 

He remembered that awful day when Merle had left him.

 

‘Is it really you brother?’ Daryl asked, a touch of caution in his voice, he’d had his fair share of demons today.

 

‘Yep, it’s me, ole Merle’

 

‘I love you brother, I miss you so much’ Daryl said, not sure if he could let a tear fall in such a wonderful dream.

 

‘Is Negan there too?’ Daryl asked Merle.

 

‘No Daryl, Negan isn’t there. ‘I don’t know where souls like him go, I am not bothered really either, I got in, and so will you. 

 

The road ahead was suddenly engulfed in a really bright white light, far too bright to be the moon.

 

‘This is where you gotta hop out brother’ Merle instructed Daryl.

 

‘Your time will come and we will all be together in this beautiful place one day, but right now, Rick and the rest of them need you’ Merle began his parting words.

 

‘Carol needs you, you keep that wonderful woman close, lay down your life for her should the day ever come’ Merle instructed his younger brother.

 

‘Carol is my life, she is my everything’ Daryl told Merle.

 

Daryl opened the truck door and stepped out into the night, the cool evening breeze met his bare arms.

‘Gonna miss you brother’ Daryl said, no longer able to hold back the tear that had been wanting to fall since he realised what this was about.

 

‘I know, I know, but when you’re havin’ a bad day, or you’re feeling lonely or sad, just think about me, think about me and mum watching over you all, now go, you go and live that good life of yours lil brother, a beintot’.

 

Daryl knew this meant until we meet again, which he was now sure they would’.

 

Daryl closed the truck door and Merle began to drive away into the bright light, waving his hand out of the window one last time.

 

Daryl felt himself waking up, he slowly moved position.

He began to think about the dream as soon as he woke up.

Was it real? Did he just get a visit from his passed brother? It left him rather confused.

He felt sad as he realized how much he missed Merle.

‘Agh, those damn ribs again’ paid suddenly derailed his current train of thought, he winced as he remembered he’d been injured.

The room was pitch dark but Daryl had no idea what the time was.

As he turned over, he noticed Carol fast asleep next to him.

He needed to use the bathroom, so he managed to get himself up, albeit very slowly, trying his absolute best not to disturb Carol.

He gritted his teeth against the pain, made it to the bathroom and back to bed, Carol was still sleeping, he almost made it back into position when Carol stirred.

‘You ok sweetheart?’ Carol asked.

 

‘Yeah, I’m good’ Daryl replied, the low light of the moon filled the room and illuminated a lonely tear running down his face.

‘I had this dream about Merle, it was so real, he was there talking to me like you are now, telling me all this shit about the next life, and how he was there and he was ok’ Daryl began to tell Carol what his last dream was about.

‘I think he was really there Carol, Merle came to see me’.

‘Maybe so’ Carol replied ‘maybe he is watching over us, he’s probably having a good laugh some days!’

‘He said he is, he said my mom is watching me too, that she knows all about my life and how things are now’ Daryl went on.

Daryl yawned, it was still the small hours of the night, he was going to try to get some more sleep, but he felt kind of empty, he felt sad. He wasn’t used to feeling this way, but his recent ordeal had worn him out and left him exhausted.

‘Come here’ He said to Carol, who repositioned herself so he could pull her close.

He held her warm body against his and kissed her on the back of her neck, the fine downy hairs felt soft to his lips.

He wrapped his arms around Carol as if he were protecting her from something.

The pair lay like this for a few minutes before sleep caught back up with them both.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghosts and Echos - Chapter seven.
> 
> Daryl takes a few minutes to reflect on the past few months, the people he's lost and the people he must protect. 
> 
>  
> 
> This story keeps on evolving lol, you’re probably bored of it now and I will have to bring it to a conclusion soon and work on other stuff. 
> 
> Hope you’re all enjoying summer and the lovely weather we’ve all been having. 
> 
> I must say I am looking forward to the Halloween season now, cooler days and darker nights, spooky things, ghosts and frights! Which brings me onto this chapter, hope you enjoy it, this one’s a bit slow, so bear with me, back into the action in chapter eight!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer:I don’t own anything related to the Walking Dead and all characters mentioned here.

The next time Daryl woke up, shards of early morning sunshine were bursting through the tall curtains and spilling their rays across the room.

Daryl stirred, reaching out his arm hoping to find Carol’s warm body, but instead, nothing, she wasn’t there.

‘Where are you woman?’ Daryl said, grimacing as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

Then he heard footsteps on the big oak stairs, coming closer to the bedroom.

The door began to open, creaking on it’s old hinges, and Carol appeared from behind it holding a tray with a glass of orange juice and some toast with poached eggs sitting on the top.

Daryl grinned, his eyes lighting up when he saw Carol. Even 10 minutes without her felt like an eternity.

‘Eat up, then take these’ she said, handing Daryl his bottle of painkillers.

‘Could we go outside in a bit, I feel like a caged tiger in here’ Daryl said as he began to tuck into his breakfast in bed.

‘Yeah of course, I’ll help you get up and get dressed after you’ve done with that’. Carol told him as he delved into the delicious runny poached eggs, sandwiching them up in the toast and taking a huge bite, yolk running down his chin.

In the midst of his feast, he shook out two of the painkillers and took them with his orange juice.

‘I hate these things’ he mumbled as he ate.

‘They make me so tired, they take the pain right away, but man, they make me so tired’.

‘I know hun’ Carol said, ‘I know you hate that but it’s gotta be better than the pain right?’ Mhh, Daryl nodded in agreement, ‘I spose so’.

 

Once Daryl had finished guzzling down his breakfast in bed, he shuffled to the edge of the bed and began to stand up.

‘Ugh, that’ fuckin’ hurts’ he growled, placing one hand onto the wall to steady himself.

Carol trotted over and offered him her hand, which he reluctantly took.

Carol had got him a clean set of clothes for the day, his black jeans and red check shirt were set out on the armchair which sat in the corner of the room.

He slowly made his way over there, trying his best to avoid aggravating his ribs. He glanced into the large mirror next to the chair.

‘Oh shit, I look worse than I feel’ he sighed as he took note of all the injuries Negan’s evil ghost had inflicted onto him.

His bottom lip was cut, there were marks on his forehead, on his cheeks and a cut on the top of his nose where the awful spirit had punched him and thrown him to the ground.

Images of that event suddenly flooded back, taking Daryl back, yet again, to the foreboding darkness of the cell.

He’d had enough of these memories, now Negan had added yet more to the collection of abominations in his mind.

Daryl shuddered as if he were cold, then picked up his shirt and began to put it on, his ribs bit back as he tried to put his arms into the sleeves, it hurt, it really hurt, but Daryl battled through.

He was NOT going to allow Negan to stop him from even dressing himself, the days where that bastard effected his life to such a degree were long over.

He carried his boxers and jeans back over to the bed, slid his old pair of boxers off and began to struggle his way into the clean pair.

Carol giggled as he sat down on the bed struggling to pull his boxers on.

‘I’ll gladly be of assistance if you need me down there Daryl!’ Carol giggled playfully.

‘Later baby, later!’ Daryl shot back.

‘I wanna go see them’ Daryl said as his face returned to the familiar flat scowl he always wore.

‘See who?’ Carol asked.

‘Glenn and Abraham, their graves, I’ve not been there for a while, I feel like I owe them’ Daryl said, sadness tainting his words.

‘Ok, you get dressed and I’ll help you over there, we’ll sit there a while if you want’. Carol assured him.

She knew Daryl was feeling quite awful, but there’s no way he’d ever let anyone see that.

Daryl blamed himself for what Negan had done, if he had not punched him on that fateful day, two of his family may still be alive.

His ribs ached as he began to put his arms into the sleeves of his shirt. Sleeves were a foreign concept to Daryl, as he’d torn them off most of his shirts now, they got in the way he said, when he was loading bolts into his crossbow or gutting his kills, sleeves got in the way.

 

When he was dressed, Carol reached down to him to help him up off the bed, he winced in pain as he stood but swallowed it down.

‘One more thing’ he said as he reached down into the corner of the room and picked up his crossbow, remembering that awful dream he had last night in which he found himself in danger without his weapons.

‘You never know what’s comin in this world, and I gotta make sure no harm comes to anyone here’, Daryl said, looking as if the world just added another ton to the weight he already carried.

Daryl knew he could not protect them from what had happened to him back there in the deserted sanctuary, the thought of these evil entities attacking his friends was one he tried so desperately to force from his mind as best he could.

The pair made their way down the huge oak staircase, Carol’s arm was firmly around his waist holding him steady, and his around hers.

‘Good morning guys’ a voice rose from the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. It was Rick.

‘Hey up man’ Daryl greeted him.

‘Hey, are you feeling any better?’ Rick asked Daryl with concern in his voice.

‘A bit, but I am pissed that nobody really believes me about what happened in that wretched place’.

‘I believe you!’ Carol shot up, ‘I just think others are struggling with it because it is really, really confusing, but then again so is sharing our lives with the walking dead I suppose’.

The nature of the apocalypse did help in this manner, nobody thought it was possible for a corpse to rise up and walk the earth after death and attack the living, before they did.

‘I believe you to Daryl’ Rick began to say, ‘so does Mitchonne, we do believe you’.

‘Then you gotta help me stop those things from attacking this place, it felt like they were just getting started’.

Daryl remembered his dream, the horrible one he had had last night. He recalled the feeling of warm blood on his skin, the voices of the demonic entities as they tormented him, the hopeless feeling that got heavier and heavier the further down he was dragged. He was sure if he had not woken up, those things would have dragged him all the way to hell.

He closed his eyes against the memory and sighed, the dream was over now, but he was sure those entities were not done with him yet.

‘Right, well I need a bit of time to let this all play out in my mind if that’s ok’ Daryl said as he took hold of Carol’s hand and motioned towards the door that led out into the yard outside.

‘I’ll come find you later on Rick brother, so we can talk this through and work out what the hell we are going to do about it’ Daryl spoke quietly, his voice sounded despondent and fed up.

‘Were are you off to then you two?’ Rick asked.

‘Just gonna go see Glenn and Abraham, I have something to put on their graves’, Daryl said as he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out two carved wooden figures.

One of them was a soldier and one of them was a little man playing a guitar.

‘Dwight made these for me to put on Glenn and Abraham’s graves, and as much as I dislike the man, he seems genuinely sorry for what happened’.

Daryl looked even more sad, Rick could tell things were weighing very heavy on the man’s soul right now and didn’t really know what to say.

‘Thank you for not killing Dwight Daryl, and I mean that, I hope the two of you can find peace between you. Dwight has been an important ally, he’s saved people, he has made up for what he was forced to do’, Rick told Daryl.

‘I’ll make peace with myself first, it was my actions that lead to their deaths’, Daryl said, shouldering the blame for Glenn and Abraham’s deaths.

It had been his punch to Negan’s face that had riled him up into committing the murders.

‘Well I will catch up with you later on Rick bro, I gotta go now my ribs are killing me’ Daryl said as he gripped Carol’s hand in his, secretly letting her know just how much he needed her at the moment.

‘Catch you later Rick, we’ll be back over for dinner’ Carol said as they made their way to the door.

Carol put her arm around Daryl’s waist, helping steady him as he was still in so much pain from the attack.

The yard was pretty quiet, but a voice chimed in.

‘Daryl, omg, I am sorry for what happened to you’, it was Maggie.

‘I believe you, I believe in evil like that. We were raised to believe in good, our father was a firm believer in good, so if there is good, there is evil in this world and in the next’.

‘Again, I am so sorry he hurt you again’.

‘It’s ok hun, I am ok, just really hurting, the bastard gave me a proper thrashing’.

Maggie had a tear in her eye, it was bad enough what Negan had put Daryl and everyone else though in life, including murdering her husband, now he could not leave them be in death.

‘Come here’ Daryl motioned, and he put his arms around Maggie and hugged her, ‘not your fault’ he whispered into her ear.

A silence fell among them for a few seconds before Daryl spoke up again.

‘I’ll see you later sweetheart, sumthin I gotta do’ he told Maggie before taking Carol’s hand and resuming his journey to the graves.

Daryl sighed as the graves of his friends came into sight.

If he hadn’t sighed to suggest how he felt, there would simply be no other way to know, Daryl always remained stoic and collected.

He slowly let go of Carol’s hand. It had been a while since he’d been up here. The war and everything else had taken up so much of his time and energy.

Daryl winced in pain as he tried to tidy up some wilted flowers on the graves. He couldn’t bend down far enough to pick them up.

‘Fuck’s sake’ he grunted under his breath, ‘can’t even pick some fucking flowers up, sorry guys’ he cursed as he pointed his angry gaze towards the sky, hoping somehow that Glen and Abraham could see him and appreciate his efforts.

Carol stooped beside him and picked up all the wilted flowers, then took them to a nearby compost pile.

When she returned to the graves, she was carrying two small potted plants, flowering plants, Daryl knew their names and internally kicked himself for the delay identifying them. ‘Pansies’, yes that was it, pansies.

‘Here’ she said ‘put this one in here’ pointing to the carved figure of the man with the guitar, and Daryl placed it into the pot among the flowers. ‘Him in here’ and he placed the soldier figure into the other pot, Carol placed them on the graves, the guitar man on Glen’s and the soldier onto Abraham’s.

Once she was done, she glanced back up at Daryl, who even more looked tired and forlorn, the expression on his face told her he was fighting back a few tears.

‘We gotta stop him, he will come here and hurt more people’.

‘I know Daryl but fighting such an evil thing is not like fighting walkers, where taking their brains out of action stops them, this thing doesn’t have brain to stab!’ Carol replied, sounding just as frustrated as Daryl.

 

Daryl felt that the task of vanquishing Negan’s evil spirit was one that fell on him, and him alone.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October is upon us, so I hope you enjoy my spooky musings!
> 
>  
> 
> Here’s chapter eight in time for the big day! 
> 
> More coming VERY soon! 
> 
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
> 
> Disclaimer: As usual, I don’t own any part of the Walking Dead, this is just me borrowing these guys for a few, I’ll put them back once I’m done :)

Once Daryl was finished what he needed to do at the graves, he took Carol’s hand and motioned towards the house.

Carol slipped her arm back around Daryl’s waist and they both began to walk back towards the house.

When they got there, the whole place smelled of food cooking, for a moment, Daryl remembered the few times in his childhood when his mum had managed to save up enough money for a joint of meat and cooked a roast dinner.

His father would wolf the food down with at least two beers and not utter so much as a thank you for the effort, a stony silence would permeate the air around the table, nobody dare speak for fear of igniting his rage. Afterwards, when his father passed out on the sofa, Daryl would go to his mum and hug her, ‘thanks for the lovely dinner mum’ he’d always say.

Daryl missed his mum. He knew she loved him but was terribly afraid to show it for fear of his father’s rage. His father forbid his mum from showing the two boys any affection, saying it would ‘make pussies of them’.

After dinner, mum always said ‘run along now, go play’ urging Daryl to be elsewhere when his father woke up.

Daryl figured this upbringing was the universe’s way of preparing him for what was to come, it hadn’t been easy, but without this hardship, Daryl wondered if he would have survived like he had. His life was desolate before the dead began to walk, before the world ended. It was not that much of a shock to him and his brother, they adapted quickly. It was these well instilled instincts that had kept them alive in the early days of the apocalypse, kept them together and kept them strong.

 

Dinner seemed like a quiet affair, small talk over planting vegetables and securing fences passed between everyone. Daryl chose to remain silent and the others respected that.

He just didn’t feel like talking much, but heck he appreciated the dinner. Today was roast chicken day, and Daryl loved roast chicken day!

‘Mmm, this is damn good’ he grunted between mouthfuls of the delicious roasted bird, adorned with onions and peas and roasted potatoes, all from the garden courtesy mainly of Maggie.

It had taken four chickens to feed everyone, and the birds sat in the middle of the table among the rest of the food.

‘Thanks so much for doing this wonderful dinner’ Carol spoke up.

‘It’s been a shitty week for some of us and we needed this’

‘Daryl, you take as much time as you need to recover from your latest injuries’ Rick told him, ‘please don’t worry about us, we’re all just fine’.

Rick knew Daryl would be very upset about being out of action yet again. He was right, Daryl was pretty pissed about his injuries, and how he couldn’t do the things he felt so obliged to do.

Daryl finished off his dinner, his only qualm is there wasn’t enough, he giggled silently inside his head.

‘Thank you, honestly thank you, this has made my day’ Daryl said, thanking everyone for the dinner he’d just enjoyed so much.

‘Mind if I excuse myself now? I’m hurting, think I’m going to go and lay down for a bit’ Daryl said to the group.

‘Not at all hun, hope you feel better later on’ Maggie assured him, knowing what he’d just been through.

‘I’ll be up in a while sweetie, just going to help with the dishes after everyone’s done eating’ Carol told him.

‘No worries, I’ll be in bed’ Daryl said back.

‘Goodnight Daryl’ Carl said as he bid Daryl farewell for the evening.

Daryl was missing his friends, his family, he felt lonely. He felt lonely and angry that some of them had been stolen away in such a pointless way.

Once he got to the bedroom, he got onto the bed, took two painkillers and took off his trousers and his shirt and got under the blanket, it was 8pm anyways, not that long till bedtime in a world with little to amuse oneself with at night.

As he felt the painkillers begin to take effect, his sore ribs felt a little less sore, his breathing didn’t hurt quite so much, and his eyes began to feel heavy, his thoughts slowed as his body prepared to fall asleep.

Next thing he knew, movement woke him he felt the bed move as if someone was sitting on it.

‘Carol?’ his quiet, still half asleep voice asked the darkness around him.

‘NOT QUITE!’ a demonic sounding voice boomed.

Daryl looked up to see the bony face of Negan glowing ever so slightly in the darkness, his cold, stale scent flooded Daryl’s nostrils.

‘Oh shit not again’ his terrified mind raced as the demonic entity glared at him in the darkness.

‘Not here, please not here in the place where my family also live’ Daryl was frantic with fear, not so much for himself, but for the others here that he loved and cared about so much. 

He was alive because of these people, and now he had bought this demon into their lives. 

‘Hello again piggy!!!’ Negan boomed.

‘NO, FUCK, NOT AGAIN, LEAVE ME ALONE, LEAVE ME ALONE YOU SONOFABITCH!’ Daryl cried out, his body now pinned to to bed by the evil spirit.

Negan laughed in the darkness as he straddled Daryl’s terrified form.

‘Just a fleeting visit piggy, just to let you know I am going to kill each and every one of you, one at a time, slowly, and last of all I will kill you, after you watch them all die! I will take your bitch first, what’s her name, oh, Carol, that’s it’.

 

Daryl was both livid and terrified that the demonic Negan had dared mention Carol’s name. Daryl would give his life for her, he’d trade places with her in all dangerous situations, often diving in first so she didn’t. 

 

He knew how to protect her from walkers and humans alike, he had the strength and skills to be able to do this, and he did it well. 

 

He could not protect her from this awful thing, and it made him feel so powerless and helpless.

Then Negan vanished as quickly as he appeared.

‘NO NO NO’ Daryl cried out, the guy was in complete shock again, he was utterly terrified, he felt so helpless against such evil.

 

Negan may be gone, but the effects of his fleeting demonic visit were very real indeed. 

 

Daryl shook so violently he thought he was having some kind of seizure. He was paralyzed by fear, he could not move, he was frozen to the spot, his body in a state of shock. 

From the landing, Carol, who had been making her way to bed with Maggie, suddenly heard Daryl crying out and they’d both run into the bedroom.

Suddenly the door burst open and Carol and Maggie entered the room.

They both sat on the bed next to a very scared, shaking and panting Daryl.

Carol sat down next to him, he couldn’t or wouldn’t speak at this point, he was too terrified and utterly exhausted, but he uttered one word ‘Negan!’.

Carol pulled him into her arms, Maggie held his hand and tried to reassure him.

‘It’s freezing in here’ Maggie commented.

The two women believed Daryl and everyone else was slowly coming around to the idea too.

Maggie took the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Daryl.

‘There you go sweetie, it’s okay, you’re safe here with us’. Maggie stroked Daryl’s back as he lay against Carol, his body was shaking so much they could both feel it.

Negan’s evil spirit terrified Daryl in ways nothing else ever could.

He made Daryl feel so alone, so helpless and defenseless, just like he had during his unsettled childhood.

‘I should have come up here sooner, it’s 2am’.

Carol had got carried away playing cards by candlelight after dinner, they’d played poker and Rummy, had a good laugh, something Carol felt she needed after recent events.

Daryl would usually have totally been up for playing, but he’d needed to rest tonight.

‘Not again, not this again, no, he’s going to hurt you all, he said he is going to kill you and make me watch’ Daryl said, his terror filled voice breaking with every word.

‘No Daryl, NO he is certainly not going to do that, we’re all going to be fine!’ Maggie shot up.

Carol held Daryl against her body, she kissed him on the forehead and told him he was safe, ‘nothing’s going to hurt any of us’.

‘I’m gonna leave you two alone now’ Maggie told them both, her hand still on Daryl’s trembling shoulder.

‘Stay strong Daryl’ she told him, ‘we will stop him once and for all’

Daryl was amazed anyone believed him, I think what they’d all been through was so not normal that nothing phased any of them anymore. Maggie secretly believed that if Negan’s evil ghost was still around, then maybe Glen was somewhere better than this world.

‘It’s okay, you’re going to be okay sweetheart’ Carol reassured Daryl again as she helped him lay down next to her.

Once they were both in bed, she quickly pulled the blankets round them both and held a now silent, calmer Daryl close to her body.

He was exhausted, there was something about the encounters with Negan’s evil ghost that drained him of his life force. Daryl had sustained injuries in the past where he had lost a lot of blood, it felt like that, it felt like his body had nothing inside, his energy and spark drained away.

He began to calm down, partly because he felt safe with Carol there, and partly because he was too exhausted to do much else.

He gripped Carol’s hand that was draped over his back, through the crook of his arm and resting on his chest.

He could feel her warm body against his back, holding him tight.

‘Love you’ he murmured before his exhausted body fell into sleep, feeling Carol’s hand tighten ever so slightly around his, ‘love you too’ she replied.

Once Daryl fell asleep, she gently laid him onto his pillow and adjusted herself for sleep, he didn’t wake up or even move.

Carol began to wonder what could be done to stop this evil that was tormenting Daryl.

Carol could just make out Daryl’s face as the orange glow of the candlelight danced around the room.

He was peacefully asleep, no terror on his face, no ghosts, no torment, no pained look. His long hair slightly covered his still cut and bruised face. 

On this note, Carol blew the candle out and tucked herself under the blanket.

She felt the low warmth of Daryl’s body next to her, she would normally lay on his chest but couldn’t at the moment because his ribs really hurt.

It wasn’t long before Carol was asleep. It had been a very tiring day.

 

When Carol woke up, she reached over to Daryl’s side of the bed, hoping to find him and wrap herself around him, just for a few more minutes.

She soon realized Daryl wasn’t in the bed.

Perhaps he’d got up and let her sleep for a while, maybe he was downstairs.

She slowly sat up and noticed a piece of paper on the bedside table next to her, it just read:

‘Carol, I love you, I have never ever loved anyone as much as I love you, please forgive me, this is for you too. I must protect you.

 

I cannot let him hurt anyone else, if he wants me, he can have me.

 

Please keep everyone safe

 

Daryl’.

Carol dropped the piece of paper in shock.

In a panic, Carol jumped up out of bed, quickly got dressed, ran downstairs and asked everyone she met on the way if they’d seen Daryl leave.

‘No Carol, I haven’t seen him today’ Rick told her, ‘Why?’

‘He’s gone, he’s gone Rick, he left this’ and she showed him the piece of paper.

 

‘When I got up, his crossbow, boots and his other stuff were gone from where he keeps them in the cupboard in our room’.

‘Oh god, he’s gone back to the Sanctuary hasn’t he’ she said, her voice breaking with worry.

‘Maybe’ Rick said, ‘we can start by looking there, that’s where this all started’.

‘I’ll go get the truck’ Carol told Rick.

Carol made sure she’d got her knife and rifle with her and jogged down to where the vehicles were parked.

‘I’ll go tell them to open the gates and I’ll meet you down there’ Rick told her, ‘lets keep this between us for now, everyone cares about Daryl, so lets not worry them, lets bring him back safe’.

Down at the gates Dwight told them he had let Daryl through very early this morning on his bike.

‘He’s not my prisoner anymore, I can’t keep him here’ Dwight said, his voice laced with concern that he would be held to account for Daryl leaving.

‘Nah, it’s okay, he’s a law onto himself, we’re going to find him and bring him back safe.

‘I hope so’ Carol said back, she was visibly very upset.

‘He’s a very silly man, he’s still hurt, he’s had a really shitty few days’.

Carol jumped into the truck and Rick ran down to the gates and told the guys who were on watch to open them and let them through before he jumped into the truck and the pair made their way to the sanctuary, hoping to find Daryl there and thwart his ill conceived plans.

 

Disclaimer: As usual, I don’t own any part of the Walking Dead, this is just me borrowing these guys for a few, I’ll put them back once I’m done :)


End file.
